


let's crash the cemetery gates

by ElasticElla



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: (noncon/coerced by third party), Angst, F/F, Femslash February, Non-Consensual Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6137464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabelle makes a deal to keep Alec out of an arranged marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's crash the cemetery gates

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to cemetery drive exactly fifty-two times while writing this, so you bet that's where the title's derived from. I have another camille/isabelle(/meliorn) fic with a similar premise, but I wanted to do izzy's pov so ^.^

Isabelle can barely remember the last time her mother hugged her. She knows it was when she picked up a whip for the first time, and her instructors were so impressed they sent a note home to her parents. A few days later she hit puberty, discovered girls and boys and how she could make any of them watch her, want her if she chose. There weren't any more hugs after that. 

So when Isabelle successfully negotiates for the Seelies to back the Clave, it doesn't matter that she hates what she's wearing or that she feels fake, because she doesn't feel like an outsider anymore. And once the treaty is signed, and they're well out of the public's way, her mother hugs her, saying, “I'm so proud of you.” 

And it's worth it, it has to be worth it. 

.

_three months before_

.

“Mother please- just give me some time. I _know_ I can get the fair folk back, and after that a match would be easy. Don't make Alec do it, we need him as a leader-”

“Leaders often make sacrifices for their people.” 

Izzy sucks in a breath, using her last card, “What if he rebels? He's always been the dutiful son, he won't take such an arrangement well and you know it.” 

It's a risk, but Maryse's eyes flash, and Isabelle is suddenly sure that her mother must have suspicions about the lack of girls in Alec's life. 

“Four months. If you cannot do both, we will arrange a young woman for Alec.” Her mother sighs, “Perhaps you should start with your wardrobe.” 

“Of course, thank you mother.” 

.

Isabelle is five days into the four months, and her confidence is waning. The Clave has to directly approve every mission she goes on now, and she's still waiting to hear back about opening negotiations with the Seelies. 

For once Alec is willing to go out and party, and she's sure it's due to a certain glittery warlock. Clary wants to go recklessly after the cup, and when even Alec supports the plan, it's like she and he have traded places. The cup's been safe wherever it is- another few days to get Clave approval won't change that. If anything, Clary popping up could put it in danger. 

(At night, she twists and turns, dreams of Alec marrying a faceless woman. He finds her in the audience every time, saying, 'It was supposed to be _you_.')

On day twelve, when Izzy's beginning to wonder how much of a threat Magnus could be against their mother, the Clave finally sends their answer. It's even better than Izzy had dared hope for- a key enclosed for office space in a neutral location, between the institute and main gateway to the fairy world, along with a mail slot number for all further related requests. She could almost get used to playing by the rules she thinks, but the smirk falls fast- it isn't as though she has much choice about it. 

.

The end of day twelve, and much of day thirteen is spent making the office presentable. It's bland, but it'll do for a meeting space, is large enough in case the Queen sends a full delegation. Not that Isabelle expects more than a messenger, but it'll make her look properly gracious. 

Day fourteen, exactly two weeks in, Isabelle gets her first representative. 

A dozen different greetings tangle into a wild knot at the base of her throat as Meliorn hesitates in the doorway. 

“I now see why the Queen sent me,” he says with a sad smile. 

“I'm sorry, I-”

“There's no need Isabelle, you have chosen your path.” 

Her breath hitches, and now isn't the time to breakdown- she _can't afford_ to breakdown. “The Clave would like to establish a new alliance. One where the Fae have equal protection under the law.” 

Meliorn's fingertips come together. “I shall present it to the Queen.” 

Izzy swallows, and says, “And I think she should consider petitioning for a council seat in the alliance.”

Meliorn cocks his head to the side, “Why… oh Izzy.” 

She can see the last puzzle piece click into place for him, and she hates herself for not just telling him outright. 

“Next time, someone else will meet with you.”

Izzy blinks away the blurriness, “That's not necessary.” 

“For my sake then. I wish you luck,” he says, palming a small bottle of faerie dust to her. “Goodbye Isabelle.” 

.

Izzy doesn't get anything more done on day fourteen. 

.

By day twenty, the first alliance proposal is in the mail to the Clave, and Izzy feels like celebrating. Instead of dancing, she heads back to the institute- a Friday means movie night, and she's missed the last two. 

Clary makes her swear she'll make all future movie nights, and Izzy has to admit to herself that she's missed her bed. The new office's couch is sleep-able, but it's no where near comfortable, and avoiding the institute in hopes of just forgetting her old life was foolish. Besides, being close to Alec could only motivate her to work harder.

.

Day thirty-two, Magnus makes a surprise visit to the office, looking around with a frown. 

“Oh dear, this is just tragic,” he says, snapping his fingers. Instantly, cheap ikea furniture is replaced with gorgeous antiques and Isabelle settles onto a new squishy couch happily. 

“Thank you. To what do I owe the visit?” 

Magnus sits beside her, “I'm here for the warlocks. We've heard of the deal you're striking with the Seelies, we would like a similar one and seat.” 

Day thirty-three brings Luke to her office, and suddenly her appointment book is overflowing with different downworlder factions to meet with. After she sends in the third request, the Clave decides there will be a capped amount of seats allotted for downworlders. It takes them nearly another month of heated debates to decide how many seats- and Isabelle sends her fair share of letters to everyone on the current council- it's still a miracle that they choose twelve, exactly half of the council. 

Isabelle doesn't know until much later, but this is when parents start approaching Maryse, inquiring after the martial status of her rising star of a daughter.

.

Day fifty-two the vampires finally send someone, and Isabelle had been wondering if they would. 

“Camille Belcourt, here to snatch up the council seat from the spineless shadowhunter who only voted once all of last year.” 

And Isabelle might fall a little bit in love. 

.

Camille becomes a fixture in Isabelle's office, appearing most nights. It's not necessary- hasn't been since they sent her request the second night.

But Izzy likes her company, and ironically enough, she livens up the place. She never complains when Izzy's too busy to really talk and sometimes helps around the office. 

It's easier to hang out with Camille- she didn't know her before, doesn't give her sad glances when she leaves a room. Instead Camille cracks open a bottle of blood and tells her about the time she accidentally went skinny dipping in alligator-demon infested waters. Nights pass, and the stories turn from amusing to intimate, and Isabelle finally hears details of what Magnus and Camille were like together. (She'll admit, ever since the necklace, and the way she sometimes catches Camille looking at it, she's curious.)

“He loved me too much,” is how Camille describes their falling out. 

And Isabelle gets it, could easily see herself falling into the same trap. 

.

One night, Camille strolls in at ten pm, and Izzy rolls her eyes. “Y'know people are going to start talking about the late hours you always visit.” 

She grins, hopping up on the empty desk across from Izzy's. And pulling out a bottle and glass from her purse, she answers, “Have you tried telling them I burn in the sun?” 

Izzy snorts, trying to cover her laugh as she rereads the same paragraph. 

“You must love her a lot,” Camille muses, pouring herself a tall glass of blood. 

“Hmm?” Izzy asks, pausing on the Clave's latest missive. 

“Your mother,” Camille says, “aren't you doing this all for her?” 

Isabelle looks at the vampire in disbelief- she didn't know it was possible for Camille to be so _wrong_ , and she bursts out into laughter. There's a hysterical edge to it, and Izzy cuts the sound off quick enough, shaking her head. 

“I'm doing this for Alec.” 

Izzy focuses on the missive for real this time, wanting to avoid the inevitable follow-up question. 

(No, he doesn't know. He can't.)

.

In the end, traveling to the faerie world to meet their queen is anticlimactic. There's a waiting room, a Meliorn who doesn't flinch at the sight of her, and a dozen delicious foods that Isabelle isn't even tempted by. 

The Queen greets her, eyes lit up and a devilish smile on her lips. 

“You're on the cusp of love, one you wish not to have,” the Queen says, “how very amusing.” 

“And you're on the cusp of being on the losing side of a war, how very tragic,” Izzy replies, a saccharine sweet smile on her face. 

“Am I?” The Queen asks, laughing, “I thought we were here to sign an accord?” 

“Ah, your last messenger must have delivered your words improperly.” Isabelle pauses, pulling out the scroll. “This is yours then.” 

The Queen hesitates, quill in the air. “I shall need you to kiss your new love, just once and I will sign.” 

Only years of dealing with her mother keeps Isabelle's face from changing. “I accept.” 

“Wonderful,” she says, “it's been a pleasure. Do visit again.” 

Isabelle just remembers to give a proper parting bow, and she's out of the faerie world, halfway done with her promise. The Clave has her personally portaled to Idris, and her mother's hugging her.

.

New York has never felt so different after Idris before, and she goes to the office first, unsurprised to find Camille at her unofficial desk. And maybe Isabelle's been wearing her new personality too long, because she's too much of a coward to just do it, to just own it. 

Instead she says, “The Seelie Queen had a request of me before she signed.” 

Camille smirks, “Of course she did, the miserable old hag. Whatever your price is, I doubt it's too high.” 

Izzy almost laughs, “No, it's not high at all.” 

“Well?” Camille asks, and Isabelle steps into her space, brushing her hair behind her ears and lightly touching her face. Leaning forwards, she kisses Camille, and Camille's hands glide into Isabelle's hair, quickly pulling her closer.

Izzy lets herself get caught up in the kiss. Her first kiss in months, and god it couldn't be more bittersweet. When they break for air, Izzy forces herself to back up, to not get caught up in Camille's arms. God, it would be so easy, so good. 

“Tease,” Camille declares, licking her lips. 

Izzy's stomach flips, and she can see it, can see it all so easily. Three steps forward, and she could kiss Camille again. Three steps, and they'd fuck on the nearly empty desk that's become Camille's in her head. Three steps, and she could be happy again. 

Three steps, and she'd ruin Alec's life. 

“I can't, I wish- I'm sorry.” 

Camille looks soft, for just a breath, as she says, “Me too.” 

.

On day one hundred and fifteen, Isabelle's wedding is glorious. Magnus is Alec's unofficial date, and with the new ring on her finger, their mother doesn't even glare at the warlock. He spends the weekend before with Izzy designing the whole thing, and trying- and failing- to subtly ask what Alec's thoughts on marriage are. 

Everything is beautiful, dramatically so, and it's a lucky thing tearful brides are common. (She has to hold it during the day, can't risk Camille undoing everything. It's cowardly, but she's gotten almost used to the feeling.)

Alec and Max and Jace and Clary, and hell even Simon- they're all happy, safe. And that's all that matters.

The groom is a shadowhunter, from one of the first lines, respectable beyond belief. Most of the community privately thinks it's amazing that Isabelle Lightwood, reformed party girl, could ensnare him; but traditional shadowhunters have never been very creative thinkers. It'd been a far more difficult thing to hold, to give up, the love of an immortal. 

This man- this groom- was simplicity, was being content for the greater good. 

(Alec's smiling has become a regular thing, and Izzy knows it's worth it.)


End file.
